Becoming Mum
by alrightginger
Summary: Nine months, two separate baby showers, countless doctor's appointments, flicks and kicks from the inside, the fake baby project from high school could not have prepared Lily Potter for the moment she met her son for the first time. Companion piece to The Parental Project.


**A/N: Tomorrow is Mother's Day in the US, so if you're a mom, Happy Mother's Day! This is a follow up to The Parental Project. It's not as funny, but turned out more raw and real. Which is what motherhood is, I think. This is based off of my first experience as a mother. My daughter scared the shit out of me, and it took me a while to feel like a mom. Also, I have to say, I base James off of my husband in most of the fics I write of Jily. It made we weepy writing this in the best way.**

 **Becoming Mum**

Nine months, two separate baby showers, countless doctor's appointments, flicks and kicks from the inside, _the fake baby project_ from high school could not have prepared Lily Potter for the moment she met her son for the first time.

And the thing is Lily thought herself most prepared, but the moment the small infant is placed on her chest, looking up at her with wide- emerald eyes quite her own, a sudden real fear ran through Lily.

She didn't expected the actual _meeting_ of her son would seem so impactful. She had thought it would be as though she had always known him for she had felt him within her. His feet had been in her ribs, his head upon her bladder. Surely those things constructed a foundation for a mother son relationship if nothing else.

But when he's placed under her hospital gown - his skin a pinkish red, a warmth radiating from him, his crying ceasing the moment they are skin to skin- the sudden thought dawned upon Lily that he's his own little person, separate from her, and she isn't sure _who_ exactly that person is.

Her fear is further solidified the moment he locks eyes with her, letting out a loud wail before jamming his thumb in his mouth, and scrunching his face up at her.

Because he _knows_ who she is.

He knows who she is without any sort of hesitation.

He knows her as _mum_ , and for the first time since she found out she was going to have her son, she doesn't _feel_ like a mum.

* * *

The first night home is a disaster.

Lily misses the nurses walking her through each step. She misses their steady hands guiding her, showing her how to bathe Harry. She misses being able to press a button for whenever he coughs, cries, or makes any funny sound, and having someone come into her room to help who knows more than she ever possibly could.

She isn't sure why the thought of having to keep this little infant _alive_ never crossed her mind.

She wonders if she's able to do such a task.

She's holding Harry in her arms, rocking him, cradling him towards her, trying to get him to latch.

She _hates_ breastfeeding. It's painful, it's uncomfortable, and for something that is supposed to be so _natural_ it doesn't come that way to her. She's not even sure if her milk has come in, and wonders if he's even getting anything to eat.

She's judging not by the way he keeps crying, and soon she is crying too, and that's how James finds them as he stumbles out of bed and into the nursery.

"What's going on?" He's wiping sleep from his eyes, and squinting at Lily without his glasses. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know why I thought I could _do this,"_ she chokes out through her tears. "It's too _hard!"_

"The breastfeeding?"

"The breastfeeding, the baby thing, the _mum_ thing," she sniffs. "I don't _feel_ like a mum yet, James. Is something _wrong_ with me?"

James crosses the room, bends down in front of Lily, and places a hand on her cheek. His thumb brushes away her tears, and her eyes flutter shut at his touch.

"Nothing is _wrong_ with you," he says. His voice is still thick with sleep, but there's conviction. "He's only three days old. You can't expect to have it all figured out just yet. You're still recovering from giving birth for Christ's sake."

"But I'm his _mum._ I should have it figured out. My mum did. Your mum does."

"Lily, _no one_ has this figured out. The truth is, we are going to be winging this for the rest of our lives."

Lily sniffles, and a smile breaks through, though it's cloaked with a sob.

"Harry _scares_ me," she says softly.

"Well, look at him," says James. He pokes one of Harry's chubby cheeks gently, and the baby merely blinks. He's captivated over Lily's red hair, and doesn't notice much else. "He still looks like an alien."

"He scares me because he _knows_ I'm his mum, and I'm still figuring out who this mum person even is."

James is silent for a moment, regarding Lily with a warm smile, and she wonders briefly if he can even see her without his glasses. He stands suddenly, cupping her face with his hands, and places a kiss on her forehead. Lily wonders how he always seems so steady, so solid.

"Let me take the baby," he says, reaching his hands out towards Harry. "You go get some sleep."

"But- but I need to figure this out," she says. "And he's hungry."

"I'll make a bottle. You just gave _birth,_ Lily. You'll be able to figure this out better if you have a decent night's rest first."

Lily bites her lip as James takes Harry from her. She watches her husband as he bounces their infant son in one of his arms, the other reaching out in front of him to guide him through the house without his glasses. He seems so natural, and the thought of him with the fake infant comes back to her. She goes back to their bedroom, sits down at the foot of her bed, and lets herself sob. It's an ugly, deep cry that shakes her whole body, but it's what she needs.

* * *

A few nights later Harry stirs in the middle of the night, and Lily hears his cries through the baby monitor on the nightstand next to her head. She goes to him, pausing outside the door of the nursery where she watches him flail and squirm.

She takes a deep breath.

She scoops him up.

She says, "Mummy's here."

And his crying stops almost instantly.

* * *

Harry turns a month old, and Lily has him dressed in a white onesie with a blue stick on tie that reads _one month._

Harry is looking up at her as though she isn't sure what she's trying to do exactly as she holds her phone over top of him and makes outrageous faces. But he knows _who_ she is, so he goes with it, trusting in that alone, and blinks up at her without any tears.

"Look at mummy, Harry!"

As if he could look anywhere else.

* * *

Harry is three months old when Lily wakes up from a nap they were sharing, - him in his rock n play, her on the couch- and hears him cooing next to her.

She's wiping drool from her face, and blinking over at him when he notices her.

And smiles.

His _first_ smile.

His wide and gummy and his little hands clasp together as he looks up at her.

Lily shrieks so loud that she hears a crash from the kitchen, and James - who is wearing an apron because that's the type of person James just is - comes barreling into the room.

"What?" He's wielding a spatula like a sword. "What's happened?"

"He _smiled,"_ she says, pointing wildly at Harry. "He smiled for the first time!"

James drops the spatula and tugs at his hair. "He smiled?"

"He _smiled!"_

"Oh my god!"

"Get the fucking camera, _James!"_

* * *

Harry is four months old when Lily is laying on the floor with him. He _hates_ tummy time, and keeps rolling over any chance he gets. Which is a good as far as milestones go, but he's developing a bit of a flat spot, and it's setting Lily's new mum nerves on edge even though the pediatrician says it's not all that bad.

" _Stop it,"_ she says when he rolls over for the fourth time.

And maybe it's the huffy-baby-talk tone she is using with him, or maybe it's the fact that she's crossing her eyes at him while she speaks, but Harry _laughs._

And it's his first real laugh that turns into a giggle, and soon Lily is belly laughing with him.

" _Stop it,"_ she says again, and he squeals with laughter. " _Stop it, stop it, stop it!"_

James comes home from work to find Harry - still on his back - and Lily playing with his toes.

The pair of them still laughing at each other.

* * *

It's a Tuesday when Lily straps Harry into his car seat, and his chubby baby legs are flailing around, making it hard for her to buckle him in. He's dressed in a romper that James isn't too fond of, but Lily thinks it's adorable on him.

They're going to meet James for lunch, and Lily is excited to get out of the house for a bit, and be around other adults.

Even if the other adults are just her husband and _Sirius_ (who really, truly doesn't count). She loves being a stay at home mum, but sometimes it's mind numbing and more than a little bit lonely.

Lily pulls out of the driveway, and Harry is cooing in the back. He's been babbling a lot more, making a series of _aaa's_ and _ooo's_ and noises that are similar to a motorcycle. He's also screaming a lot more just to hear the sound of his own voice. Sometimes Lily stands over top of Harry, hands on her hips, him screaming at the top of his lungs, and wonders if it's normal.

James tells her that it is, but she's not sure she should trust his judgement on the normalcy of other things.

"Mama," says Lily. She's pulling onto the main road, mindlessly speaking to Harry. "Mama."

He's close to his first word, and she's desperately trying to beat James at whose name comes out of Harry's mouth first.

Not to be dramatic or anything, but she will lose her _shit_ if Harry says dada first.

And then she hears it.

"Maamaaa." Slow and drawn out. And then faster and all together. "Mamamamamamama."

And she has to pull over on the side of the road and cry.

She isn't sure when it happened, but she _feels_ like a mum, and she realizes that she's felt that way for a while now.

Almost as if the person she was in the hospital doesn't exist anymore.

She's _mum_ now.

And she isn't sure how she was ever anything else.


End file.
